Two Seconds Past Hope
by Totally Raven
Summary: It's several years after Hogwarts and though happy, Hermione knows something is missing from her life. Cho Hermione Fleur. femmeslash. smut.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: FOR CRESSEY. This has come from nowhere, really, but is specifically written with the pairings in mind for Cressey, who reviewed my femmeslash "The Moon". The story is for any lover of femmeslash, though.

Disclaimer: Don't own...

Snuggled in her lover's arms, especially post-coitus, was Hermione's favourite time to remember things

Snuggled in her lover's arms, especially post-coitus, was Hermione's favourite time to remember things. When Cho slept in the early hours of the morning after a sensuous love-making session Hermione liked to think back to her school days and the days directly after them. Hermione never had told Cho how many lover's she'd had, male or female, but knew Cho had only been with men before her. Hermione didn't worry about Cho leaving her for a man. In her memories she had another waiting for her in the wings. And not just in her memories. Right there in reality, her favourite past lover…

Hermione looked at Cho's sleeping, flushed face. Cho always fell asleep with a smile gracing her fine, wide mouth. After Cho slept, Hermione would sometimes creep out of bed and down into the street. She would walk the two blocks to the park and sit on the bench, under the tree Hedwig liked to sit in during the day when Harry took his two dogs out.

Hermione and Harry had stayed very close. Harry had married Ginny Weasley, but so far, after four years, they had no children. Hermione didn't know why. She didn't like to ask. She suspected, if it weren't a medical problem, it was because Ginny had wanted to finish her learning first. Six months ago she had become a qualified Healer.

Nobody had seen much of Ron since Luna had died. They'd been engaged. Ron was mad about her, it had been so sweet to see. Now, the only one who saw him regularly was Lavender. They seemed to be working things out together. Lavender had been broken hearted ever since Parvati disappeared.

This night Hermione decided to take her usual stroll. Unlike Cho, who was always exhausted after sex, Hermione found herself lying awake, pumped full of adrenaline, waiting for that last kiss or touch that would satisfy her, too.

She slipped out of the bed and found a pair of jeans. As she pulled them on she found them a little loose on her. They were Cho's.

She did them up anyway, found her bra and pulled it on and then grabbed her coat off the back of the chair by the wardrobe. Then she grabbed her keys, smokes and a book and left the little house.

It must have been about one o'clock in the morning. Sometimes Hermione would see Ron and Lavender sitting in the park as she passed to go to her favourite bench. She always would see them sitting on the rocks around the pond. Not tonight though. Hermione looked as she walked past, puffing lightly on a cigarette and shrugging deeper into her coat.

It was a nice night and Hermione sat back, relaxing into the bench once she got to it. She finished her cigarette and ground it out beneath her foot. She had pulled on a battered pair of street shoes at the front door. She took a few deep breaths, wincing as she felt a nicotine rush flood into her legs, making them very giddy. She shook her feet a little and then sighed. Her mind wandered. She could still feel the rush from sex, and it was only now, in this secret dark that Hermione felt she could truly satisfy herself. She pulled the book out of her pocket, along with her wand. She created her famous blue fire and it hovered near her, giving off a slight light and warmth.

This book was Hermione's journal from a long time ago. She hadn't kept many journals since it, because all of the documents within it made her whole life shadowed in comparison.

Hermione began to read, and was taken back in memory…

-

Those first days out of school were terrifying. Hermione had no idea what she wanted to do with herself. There was the idea of being a Healer, but Hermione didn't fancy all the trouble. She thought about journalism, but Rita Skeeter put her off everytime. If she'd learned anything from Hogwarts it was that she didn't want to work in the Ministry, she was no good with animals and she didn't want to open a bar. And she _certainly_ didn't want to be a dentist.

So Hermione decided to go back to France. When she thought about all her time in school, she remembered how happy her French holidays had been. She remembered sunbathing on the balconies of country chateaus and it appealed to her.

Hermione's first two weeks in France were uneventful. Then she got an owl from Harry, saying he'd been hoping to catch up. Hermione explained to him that she was on holiday. Harry decided to join her.

Hermione and Harry spent their days wandering through small, private shops in the French countryside. Harry became smitten with a chocolate boutique and soon became very friendly with the staff there. And this was where Hermione's adventure began.

Harry came home one day from the chocolate boutique, where he had taken to spending a lot of time, socialising and helping serve customers for the staff. He was very excited, and rushed over to Hermione, where she was sitting with a cup of tea.

"Hermione!" he cried. Hermione was so startled she almost spilt her tea. "Guess who works at the boutique!"

Hermione eyed Harry like he'd lost his mind.

"Fleur! Delacour, I mean, remember her? She works there, but has been on holidays visiting Viktor Krum – I didn't know they were friends – and came back to work today. I got the shock of my life."

"So I see." Hermione eyed him a little warily still.

"Anyway, we spoke for ages, and…" and now Harry looked a little sheepish. "I invited her to tea tonight."

Hermione only sighed. There wasn't any point causing a fuss. Harry was her guest and oldest friend. If he wanted Fleur to visit then visit Fleur must.

Harry helped prepare the meal that night, much to Hermione's delight. Even though Harry often helped he usually did the easiest, simplest tasks. Hermione was glad tonight he was making an effort to get his hands in.

Fleur arrived at six thirty. Hermione had made an effort to look presentable. Usually around the home she wore no makeup, didn't brush her hair and wore her bathing suit under an old, tattered pair of track pants. Tonight, knowing she was going to be in the presence of a part-Veela, she wanted to look sophisticated. A simple sulphur coloured dress would do it. And it would show off her tan wonderfully. She rubbed a potion through her hair to make it drop into loopy waves and applied some orange blush, did her eyes with smudgy brown eyeliner and mascara, and wore lip gloss.

She was glad she did. Fleur arrived looking resplendent in blue eye shadow and a pewter grey ensemble. Hermione felt like such a child next to her.

The meal through Harry watched Fleur with slightly glassy eyes. It was obvious Fleur was using her charms, but the more Hermione watched the less attracted Harry seemed to be, as if Fleur was shutting down her power. She didn't want Harry to be madly in love with her, Hermione realised. Then why is she here?

It took Hermione two weeks to figure it out. Fleur kept using Harry to come around to the house, where Hermione was meant to play hostess. And over the two weeks Hermione found herself opening up to the older girl. It seemed Fleur was much deeper than the temptress she appeared. Hermione was fascinated by the workings of Fleur's mind and finally, after seventeen days of almost constant Fleur, Hermione herself invited the woman over. This time, Harry was to be spending the night at the local with the others from the boutique so Hermione suggested a 'girl's night in'. Fleur seemed ecstatic at the prospect.

Fleur arrived the following night wearing a topaz coloured dress. Hermione herself was wearing a purple, patterned maxi-dress, because it was rather warm that night but she hadn't shaved her legs in a few days. After a meal the women settled into the couch, music playing, movie selection on the table, and glasses of wine in hand.

"I am glad we can be friends, now, 'Ermione," Fleur said in her accented English. "You never seemed to warm much to me at 'Ogwarts."

Hermione snickered into her glass. The women had been talking for almost three hours now, which equated to a lot of wine. She was well on her way to being drunk, inhibitions nicely lowered. "That's because you were a pompous slut," she laughed.

Fleur, not at all offended, smiled lightly. "You don't know the 'alf of it."

"Tell me the 'ole of it," Hermione said, trying very poorly to mimic Fleur's accent.

Fleur gave her what Hermione considered a very calculating look. Then she spoke: "I 'ave a 'igh sex drive. It ees very 'ard for me, when I am in love and fantasising about someone, to not 'ave them. So I project to another. This is why I jump from lover to lover."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah? Well, I'm a little like that to, I suppose. Nah, I'm more just experimental. Back in school, do you know," Hermione dropped her voice confidentially, "I had a relationship with Padma Patil in Ravenclaw. It was easy to meet up since we were both prefects."

Fleur's face boasted an odd expression. "Did you like it?" she said.

Hermione nodded, a silly drunken smile on her face, "Yeah…" she said, and looked straight into Fleur's eyes. Then she leaned in and kissed her.

Hermione wasn't really paying much attention, but she was aware of a small feeling of surprise when she felt Fleur's arms wrap tightly about her and those Veela lips kissing her back, firmly.

It was Fleur who parted Hermione's lips with a skilled tongue, and gently pressed it against Hermione's own. The women drew closer together, and Hermione felt herself sigh, alcohol working its wonders and putting her into a sleepy, relaxed state. Finally, she pulled out of the kiss and laid her head against Fleur's shoulder, eyes shut. Fleur remained rigidly upright, but still holding her.

They were silent for awhile. Hermione opened her eyes every now and then to stare at the wine that she still held, glass in hand. She wanted to drink it, but the hug was too comfortable. Finally, though, it had to end.

"'Ermione?" Fleur said, pushing gently at her. Hermione moved.

"Yeah?" Hermione said with a sleepy smile.

Fleur paused, taking in a deep breath. "I am in love with you."

Hermione's smile broadened. "Since when?" she said.

"Since 'Ogwarts." Fleur said, in even in a tipsy wonderland Hermione could see she was serious. She was surprised.

"Well," she said, shifting slightly. "I always found you attractive. A little too much, if you know what I mean. That's why I've been so distant. Besides, I thought you were a slut."

Hermione didn't know why she said any of that, but Fleur chose to ignore it. "'Hermione…" she said, suddenly breathless. "Let's make love."

Hermione was taken aback. Suddenly the thought of all the alcohol they'd consumed rushed into her head, and the whole _morning after_ scenario seemed rather daunting. But then the straight side of Hermione's brain, the part that had ruled her school days, was shut up by the more reckless, teenage side. After all, it wasn't like she was a virgin or anything.

"Yes," Hermione replied, and then led the stumbling way to her bedroom.

-

Hermione almost flushed as she the memories began to swamp her mind. She remembered that first night with Fleur, a delicate smile gracing her lips. She remembered the rest of that holiday, and then what was to come after.

Hermione shivered suddenly as a breeze blew over her. She wondered what the time was, and if Cho had woken and missed her. Hermione didn't know if that had ever happened; Cho had never mentioned missing her, but Hermione knew her to wake up usually twice in the night.

With a sigh, Hermione drew her fire closer. She wasn't ready to go home yet, even to rest Cho's mind. Cho was a little clingy, especially after love-making. It wouldn't be until the following night, after being apart all day for work that Cho would begin to relax in Hermione's company again. Until then it was all too cutesy, cuddly. Not that Hermione minded it, but it was necessary for her to have her space.

Sometimes she thought that was half the reason she left and reminded herself of past relationships – she'd never been so trapped in a relationship, never been required to give so much. Hermione was used to being free.

But it didn't really matter. She loved Cho, desperately, even if part of her longed for something more. Cho was where she wanted to be right now. As that thought washed over her, Hermione decided to go home. She didn't want memories, she wanted the warmth of a real lover. She shut her book and strolled back up the street, letting herself in to the house. She kicked off her beaten down shoes and climbed slowly up the stairs. As she entered her bedroom the moonlight glittered through the window, highlighting Cho's outline at the edge of the bed.

Hermione slid her partner's jeans off and pulled off her coat and bra. Nearer the bed lay her track pants and top that she used for pyjamas. She slipped into them and crawled into bed again.

Cho stirred. "You 'kay?" she muttered into the night, rolling over to face Hermione.

"Yes, love," Hermione whispered back. "Just got dressed and had a cup of tea."

"Sleeping bad again?" Hermione accommodated Cho as the older girl curled into her frame.

"Just a little," Hermione said, and kissed Cho's hair.

They stopped talking then, and, putting thoughts of Fleur firmly out of her mind, Hermione was able to fall finally into a light slumber.

Hermione spent the next few days at work, completely uneventful as far as she was concerned. For the first year of her career she had had three jobs, the following year, two. She was still in the second job. She owned a little shop in Hogsmeade. She designed fashion. She designed both wizard styles and muggle, and it was her aim to educate wizards, especially older ones and purebloods, in the way of muggle dressing – so they didn't go wearing ponchos with kilts and night dresses if they're men.

Harry came in one day. He was smiling happily and the sun reflected through his glasses. His hair tumbled haphazardly across his forehead, only half concealing the jagged scar that ran down it.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, eyeing a row of "high fashion" jeans on a rack near the door.

"Hi, Harry," she replied, pushing her hair out of her face. At the moment there was only a pair of teenagers from the school peering at some muggle clothes. It was obvious, Hermione thought, that they were pure bloods from old families. "You look happy," she said, peering shrewdly at him.

"I am," Harry said, his grin stretching a little wider.

"Well," Hermione said brusquely, opening up the hatch so he could join her behind the desk, "that's good."

"Ginny's pregnant!" he suddenly burst out, his smile reaching terrific heights.

"Oh…" Hermione was a little gob smacked. "That's great!" she said, once she'd had a moment to let the news sink in. "How long?"

"Nine weeks." Harry was already the proud father.

"Wow…" Hermione said, pleased, and then hugged him. "Well, my treat – we have to go out and celebrate. Dinner at Tom's?"

"I'll have to check with Ginny, but I'm sure it'll be fine." Harry said, "I can't tell you how happy I am. Waiting all these years has been worth it."

Hermione didn't answer that sentiment. It cast her thoughts back to Fleur again. Fleur said something very similar once…

-

As soon as Hermione had the door shut to her bedroom that night Fleur caught her up in her arms again, and kissed her with a passion that was dizzying. Her hands were caught in Hermione's loose hair. The nails would catch a stray strand occasionally and the pull would sting. Hermione wrapped her arms around Fleur tightly. Fleur had her pinned to the wall beside the door, and before Hermione knew what was happening, the blonde was pulling at the straps of Hermione's dress, trying to pull them down.

"Here," Hermione breathed into Fleur's mouth, and as Fleur stepped back Hermione gathered up the dress and threw it over her head. She breathed and her body relaxed quickly. Hermione was surprised to find she wasn't embarrassed about being seen in her tatty purple panties and white strapless bra – the only bra she could wear under dresses with thin straps. In any case, she didn't think it was exactly alluring underwear. Fleur didn't seem to notice. She was too busy unbuttoning her own dress.

Hermione watched Fleur slowly undress herself, including taking out her earrings. Then Hermione allowed Fleur to pull her into a hug, where the older girl undid her bra and let it fall to the floor. Hermione took Fleur's hand and pulled her onto the bed.

It felt incredible, Hermione thought suddenly, to have this naked woman sliding, crawling, over her body. She'd forgotten that she hadn't shaved her legs. Just the thought of what Fleur could do to her was making Hermione aroused, and when Fleur suckled her she thought she would cry from how good it felt.

Fleur was nibbling at her breasts and nipples, and Hermione reached out and tangled one hand in the hair at the top of her head, tugging gently, or not so gently, when Fleur used the right amount of pressure. Hermione heard herself let out a soft groan, but didn't remember doing it.

She looked down at Fleur's face pressed to her breast and thought vaguely that her cleavage looked nice when it was squished like that. Then Fleur looked up at her. Suddenly, Hermione grabbed Fleur's face and pulled her up for a drunken, silly, aroused kiss.

"Let me make love to you?" Fleur whispered against Hermione's cheek moments later.

"Yes," Hermione said back. "God, yes."

Hermione would never forget how worshipped she felt as Fleur kissed her way down her body, licking and sucking different spots, until she reached the base of her belly. Fleur's nimble fingers pulled Hermione's panties off, the younger girl arching her back to make the task easier. Then she felt Fleur's fingers gently manipulating her clitoris, not touching it directly, but rubbing around it, stirring something carnal inside Hermione that she'd never felt before. The fingers slid over Hermione's warm flesh, and she almost tried to force Fleur to do more. But Fleur didn't need encouragement. And as she sunk her fingers, Hermione saw her give her a strange look, one that was loving, and wondrous, and almost confused.

Then she ducked her head and placed her lips around Hermione's heat. Hermione's head fell back against the bed and she lifted her hips, her body telling her where to direct Fleur's fingers. When they touched that elusive spot, something Hermione had never felt before, she came explosively, Fleur's tongue shifting away from her clitoris to penetrate the depths of Hermione's body.

The strange, rough feeling felt odd to Hermione. Before, with Padma, oral sex meant licking the clitoris in a variety of ways, until orgasm. Oral sex with Fleur meant something much more involved, and so much more experienced.

Fleur brought her back to her peak within five minutes. She had gone back to the clitoris with her tongue and stroked her fingers gently, but firmly, against that spot and Hermione had come, and felt more elated and exhausted than ever before in her life.

And as Fleur crawled back up her body, and kissed Hermione's lips with her that tasted of somewhere very private, she whispered, "For me, that was worth years of waiting."

-

Hermione shook off the memory, feeling a little flushed. That first night had been electric. Hermione had never been loved like that, not by Padma, not when she was with Viktor Krum. She had done the same for Fleur, and Fleur knew somehow that she was inexperienced and breathed to her how to do what she liked. Lovemaking with Fleur was always a learning experience.

Harry was looking at her. "Did you just space out or what," he said. It wasn't a question.

Hermione gave a half-laugh. "Yeah, sorry. I've had a bit on my mind."

"Oh?" Harry said. Out of all her friends, Hermione trusted Harry the most. She trusted him to keep her confidences and not to judge her. She knew he wouldn't – she'd never judged him, and it was a privilege that went both ways.

"I've been thinking about Fleur a lot recently."

"More than usual?" Harry asked. He was aware of Hermione's fantasies.

She nodded.

"Is that a problem?" Harry said, because Hermione had told him in the past that fantasy, she believed, was normal, and it didn't worry her that she day dreamed about another girl to get satisfaction after sex.

"Well, yeah. Shouldn't Cho be enough for me? I love her, but…"

"She doesn't satisfy you. There's something missing," Harry said. Harry had been missing something as well, ever since Parvati had vanished. Before he had gotten with Ginny, he had been involved with Parvati. Even though their split had been mutual, Harry, as he had told Hermione, felt like a part of him had died with her disappearance. Not so much as Lavender, though, obviously, Harry had claimed.

Hermione shook her head. "Does that mean something's wrong?"

Harry looked pensive. "Maybe you should get in contact with Fleur and find out."

More to come. Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: You might find this chapter a little repetitive in places. I'm sorry for that. Trust me, none of that in the next chapter!Thank you to all the wonderful reviews I recieved on the first chapter.

Disclamier: Don't own.

--

Hermione considered Harry's suggestion over the next few days

Hermione considered Harry's suggestion over the next few days. Meeting up with Fleur after so long was definitely appealing, but everytime Hermione looked at Cho she felt like seeing Fleur were a betrayal. She was meant to love Cho, and she did. She felt guilty now because … well because she wanted to see Fleur and if she did she was almost positive they'd end up having an affair. She couldn't do that to Cho.

Hermione shared her thoughts with Harry that Friday when they met for drinks after work. Ginny and Cho would be coming as well, but Cho was running late and Ginny hadn't finished work yet.

Harry simply tapped a finger against the arm of his glasses and smiled. He said, "Well, you're in a bit of a fix, aren't you."

Hermione gave a wistful smile. "I just don't know what to do. I can't keep going the same way I am. I _need_ something."

"I know how you mean," Harry said. "I'm content with Ginny, you know, but that's probably because with Parvati… you know it was different. You and Fleur were wild. It broke her heart when you left."

"I know," Hermione said quietly. "But you know the reasons."

"I know," Harry said. He smiled sympathetically at Hermione. "I think you need to Owl her. If it comes to it, you'll have to choose between her and Cho. You need to change this situation, and I think you're strong enough to do what's best for you, right?"

Hermione nodded. "You're right."

They got some paper from Tom and with Harry's help, Hermione dictated the letter to Fleur. She wasn't sure how to word it, especially since it was such an impulsive thing to do, but in the end they managed it. It said basically that she, Hermione, and Harry, were missing her and wondered, whenever she was available, would she care to come and visit? Harry had some wonderful news and Hermione had a business of which Fleur would be extremely proud.

By the time the letter was finished Cho had arrived and Ginny was close behind. The two were quite close: Cho worked in Mungo's as well, but was superior to Ginny. She worked on a different ward as well, with shorter hours, but their breaks were the same and they always met in the tea room to discuss difficult cases they were working on and get opinions from each other.

Hermione hoped, as the two girls joined them, that their medical talk wouldn't be the point of discussion. Sometimes it seemed to Hermione, and Harry as well, that the two held their own private meetings. With Harry at the ministry and Hermione on her own, it wasn't hard to get left out.

Luckily though, as the four sat over their meal which arrived a half an hour after the girls and Harry had ordered, neither wanted to talk about work. Both, however, wanted to talk about the still exciting pregnancy. It turned out, Hermione had discovered the week before when they all went to dinner, that Ginny had stopped taking her contraceptive potion about six months ago, straight after she finished her degree. It had taken just over four months before she got pregnant and was now six weeks along.

Hermione thought Ginny looked well for it. Her cheeks were coloured despite the rouge Hermione suspected she saw there, and she was just beginning to eat a tiny bit more. She said she had no cravings or sickness yet.

Ginny's heavy mop of hair fell about her face as she grinned and it struck Hermione, suddenly, now, that she had never found the small, pixie-ish girl attractive. At least, she had never been attracted to her. There was no doubt that Ginny, while not classically beautiful was very attractive.

Hermione pushed the thought away and supposed it was because even though the two of them had been intimate friends, she had always thought of Ginny as more a sister. This final thought struck her with a new idea.

"Has anyone seen Ron lately?" she asked through a mouthful of chicken. There was no need to skirt the issue of Ron. Everyone, even Ginny and Harry, found it easy to talk about.

Ginny shook her thick hair. "No," she said. "He owled me last week though. I wrote to him to tell him about the baby and he was very happy about it. But if you read between the lines it's obvious he's unhappy. I think he and Luna wanted a baby."

"She was pregnant when she died," Cho said quietly. Everyone looked at her. Cho had been Luna's last Healer. "Only she and Ron knew."

A heavy silence descended on the dinner table. Hermione's mind started to wander. She thought of the impulsive letter she had just written, not an hour ago. Suddenly a pang of regret pierced her belly. What the hell was she doing, sending Fleur a letter? God, what if she came to visit?

But then Hermione heard Harry's calm voice penetrate the thoughts. "Hermione and I have a little surprise of our own. We've invited Fleur to visit."

Cho looked at Hermione in shock, her beautiful oval eyes fixed a little too calmly on Hermione's face as she waited for an explanation. Ginny merely snorted.

"We haven't seen her in awhile," Hermione tried to stay nonchalant but she was sure she could feel her face heating up under Cho's steady stare. "Harry _and_ I thought it might be nice to catch up with her, you know now that Ginny's pregnant and the _Bitchn Witch_ is going strong… it just seemed…" Hermione's voice trailed off. It seemed _what_she thought to herself? Crazy, that's what.

Harry must have noticed her discomfort because he changed the subject. Cho's eyes held Hermione's face a little longer before turning and laughing at something Harry had just said. She excused herself.

Hermione disappeared to the small courtyard outside the Leaky Cauldron and lit up a cigarette. She took a few deep breaths and tried to settle her nerves. What was she scared of?

Was it the fact the Cho had never known about the intensity of her affair with Fleur? Was it that she knew she couldn't resist Fleur, with her soft, curving fingers and her firm, thick mouth…

No, she mustn't think of such things. But the thoughts of Fleur came into her head and she couldn't dispel them – even if she had truly wanted to.

-

Hermione was well into her holiday now. She lay, naked, on her balcony. She was flat on her back in the bright, warm sun. Fleur sat above her, on the bench, just gazing down at her. They hadn't made love yet. Fleur hadn't even gotten undressed. She just told Hermione what to do and the younger girl did it.

Fleur had a cigarette trailing from between her delicate, long nailed fingers. The smoke looked blue and grey and purple in the summer sun and Hermione thought it was beautiful. But anything to do with Fleur was beautiful. She lifted her hand for it. She had never smoked before, but if Fleur could it must be alright.

"Careful," Fleur said as she passed the cigarette down to her. Hermione took a short drag. It burned its way down her throat, but she knew most people coughed. She held it in. She heard Fleur say to take it back, hold it in. She did. It hurt. She breathed it out in a long whoosh, and sputtered lightly. The ash fell onto her breast.

"Whoops," Fleur said after many long moments, smirking down at Hermione's prone, naked body. She had finished the cigarette before speaking now. "You dropped the ash." How beautiful Fleur's voice was.

Fleur slid off the bench, her jeans catching at the back pocket buttons. She was wearing a halter necked top and as she leaned down to blow the ash from Hermione's body she reached up and undid the tie. The top fell off her naked breasts, exposing her. Hermione didn't have time to enjoy the site though. She felt herself throb in between her legs, felt the cavity there growing warm.

A moment later Fleur's lips were at her nipple and thought disappeared. There was only the simple manipulation of the sensitive skin as Fleur used her tongue, her lips and her teeth to tease her. Hermione felt herself groan, but wasn't aware of doing it and couldn't hear it.

It was just when Hermione thought she would have to pull Fleur's hand down to her nether regions that Fleur pulled back and lit another cigarette. Silently she had passed it to Hermione. Hermione knew what she was saying: This one's for you.

-

Hermione laughed a little now, a little raspy as the smoke had dried her throat. She had forgotten it was Fleur who had started her smoking. All those nights together finished and started with cigarettes. Back then, Hermione thought, she had been naïve. What was good enough for one person was good enough for her.

She looked down at the dart in her hand. Thank god Magi medicine could counteract the effects of smoking, else she'd be feeling pretty stupid about having started the habit. But as it was it gave her a rush, yes, but it also made her smell terrible.

Cho didn't smoke. Cho had never even touched one of Hermione's post-coital cigarettes. She didn't care, Hermione. It was Cho's choice and she respected it.

But what to do about Fleur's visit? Undoubtedly she would expect to stay with either herself or Harry. Hermione wasn't sure Ginny or Cho would be too impressed with that plan. What a stupid impulsive thing to do!

Hermione looked down at the remnant of her cigarette. With a sigh, she tossed the stub to the ground and rejoined the dinner party.

The next few days passed without incident, though Hermione tried to think about Fleur as little as possible. One night after she and Cho made love, though, the thoughts returned. Hermione tried to put them out – it felt dishonest all of a sudden. She lay in bed, refusing to go for a walk, and reminisce.

But no matter how hard she tried, sleep wouldn't come. Hermione decided there was something to be done, but she didn't want to hurt Cho. An affair with Fleur would be wrong, wouldn't it? If only she knew someone to help her with the problem!

The day after this wretched night Cho held her tightly before they departed for work. "I know you slept badly last night," the Asian whispered in her ear. "If you want to talk, I'm here."

Hermione looked at her lover. Cho's eyes were wide and bright and suddenly Hermione was overcome with love and sadness. Why couldn't the love she felt be enough? Why did she need Fleur to satisfy her? The reasons for leaving Fleur were still sharp in her mind, the fear of seeing her settled deep in her gut. But it was too late to take it back. Fleur would have received the letter by now.

There was no need to panic, Hermione thought. If only she knew hoe much she would need to repeat those words to herself over the course of the day.

Cho left for work before Hermione did. The younger girl then left London and Apparated to Hogsmeade. It was a distance she didn't mind covering. Hogsmeade had a good clientele – the youngsters from the school visited her a lot on weekends and at holidays, while during the week she would have a lot of the older witches come in. Today was no exception.

Her first customer was a young woman. She was obviously a pureblood and Hermione suspected a new teacher at the school. She introduced herself as Winifred Dustan, the new Potion's teacher. She was a little nervous, and Hermione supposed she wasn't that much older than the students she taught. She was tall, with long red hair which she fiddled with, irritating Hermione, as she explained that she had just met a muggle-born whom she was very fond of, but had no idea how to dress properly to mix with his family and such which.

Hermione put on her best customer relations smile and led her to the casual clothes she had. She gave her the small booklet she had written explaining the purpose of all muggle clothes and the woman bought a few items before leaving the store. There was something about her that told Hermione she'd be back.

Most of her customers were like this. Finding themselves having to interact with muggles for some reason or other they were suddenly stumped by what to wear. A little old witch had once come into the _Bitchn Witch_ to buy a new skirt and had spoken to Hermione about the day You-Know-Who had died many years before. She recounted how all the witches had come out of their houses, in long flowing garments, shooting stars over the place, sending owls…

And none of the poor muggles knew what to make of it.

She had been speaking about Hallowe'en night when Harry's parents had died, of course.

Hermione's customers were of all ages though, and not just gossipy old witches. She got lecherous young pure-bloods, who believed sex was everything and they would get it with tight jeans and wife beaters. There were silly young girls going out to buy miniskirts without the worry that their parents would find out.

Hermione was thinking of opening up another store in Diagon Alley, or branching out into lingerie and shoes or something. But for now her shop did well for her. She bought in a good profit, which, added to Cho's wage meant they could have bought a home if they chose, instead of living in their pokey house.

Hermione wasn't ready for that. She was too young, at twenty-four, to think about such things. That was her opinion anyway. She was certain she was going to want to go on another holiday soon; perhaps to Spain or Switzerland or Germany. She would need savings for that, and she didn't want to be tied down to a mortgage.

Perhaps she was running from something, she thought. Maybe that was why the prospect of Fleur was so daunting. Maybe she was still running from her.

Only Harry knew the reasons behind Hermione's strangeness regarding Fleur. It was a secret she knew, and desperately hoped, was secure.

At the end of the day, Hermione met up with Harry, as prearranged. Ginny was working late, but Cho was going to join them for dinner at the Three Broomsticks after her shift. That gave Hermione and Harry at least half an hour, probably double that, to themselves.

Hermione ordered a Billy Fizz, champagne made partly with the sweat of a billywig and mixed with citrus juice of choice. Hers was mandarin. Harry had good old fashioned Firewhisky, which had always been Sirius' favourite.

They sat and talked about this and that, touched on Ron again and then finally talked about the pressing issue of Fleur. "I'm scared," Hermione admitted.

Harry touched her hand. Their small talk had killed half an hour and now Cho might show up at any moment. Four empty glasses stood on the table. "Still?"

"I don't know why!" Hermione cried suddenly. "It's just that Fleur…"

"Hermione, you keep thinking about her. It's time to face your demons. Maybe once you have the longing will be sated. You have to do what's right for you."

That phrase again. Hermione suddenly looked shrewdly at Harry. Suddenly, she knew what he meant. "You left Parvati for Ginny, didn't you?"

Harry looked slightly stunned. Hermione was a little put out he hadn't told her before. Suddenly she felt she didn't know him. But she could see it was a painful topic for him. Hermione knew Harry always had his reasons. She didn't press him.

"I'm worried about hurting Cho as well though," Hermione said. There was no need to tell Harry there was more to her apprehension than that. He already knew.

Cho walked in the door at that moment and instantly, Hermione and Harry began to talk about the pregnancy. Cho beamed as she sat with them.

"It really is wonderful news, Harry!" she said as she joined them. "It must be thrilling to be having a child."

"It is a bit, yeah," Harry said. He was a little shy about the whole thing. He was always a little shy around Cho.

Cho was always a wonder to have dinner with. She was cheery and amicable and a good conversationalist. But Hermione knew Harry could see the slight strain between the two of them already.

When the pair got home that night Hermione began to kiss her feverishly in the very hallway they stepped into. "Cho, I love you," she hissed passionately against her mouth.

There hadn't been this much passion in the thing in so long. Sex had become a warm and tender place, similar and comforting and just a little boring. But as Hermione pushed up Cho's skirt right there in the hallway she felt a little thrill. She needed something, anything, to break the tension.

She knelt on the floor between Cho's knees and pushed her hand into the warm flesh between the Scot's legs. Immediately, she felt Cho's skin contract and then release again. A slight groan echoed in her throat as her place grew impossibly warm.

Hermione stripped the underwear away impatiently. Then she pushed her nose against Cho's mound and held her legs as she seemed to slide down the wall. With head tilted backwards, Hermione put her mouth around Cho's opening, sliding up and down, using her tongue to stimulate.

"Oooaahhhh…" Cho seemed about to fall over. It never took her long to climax this way. Hermione wasn't sure if she was sensitive to it, or if Fleur's techniques were just world renowned.

But they weren't Fleur's anymore. Hermione had expanded and learned more than Fleur had ever taught her. She was bound to, she knew. Each new partner had things to teach.

Hermione pushed first one finger then two inside Cho's passage. She didn't use the thrusting method that male lovers always had used on her, but a gentle and firming stroking. Cho groaned again and whispered her name and then Hermione felt her walls contract fiercely.

Cho slid to the ground as Hermione pulled away from her. The girl lunged for her and kissed her violently and Hermione whispered, "Take me, darling," with a need she hadn't felt in a long time.

Cho did. She used her hands and her mouth and their special tools to make Hermione come again and again.

Hours later, when it was all over and the two lay curled together, Hermione felt the slight stinging around her vulva. But still not quite satisfied. Loved, yes, explicitly, but never quite satisfied.

The next day Fleur arrived.

--

I hope it was alright. Thanks to all the wonderful reviewers from Chapter 1.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here it is! Just like I promised, and me updating after only a month! It's a little longer this time because I had a review saying the last was a little short, so I hope that's cool. Enjoy, and please review!

Disclaimer: Don't own.

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Hermione had left for work a little earlier the next day, slightly worried to see Cho. The morning after had never been a problem since their very first time – nor should it have been, as they were dedicated and lived together. But now for the first time Hermione felt nervous. Almost as if she had betrayed Cho, used her for the sex last night because she felt tense.

Even as Hermione thought this she knew it was untrue – she had needed to feel loved and let Cho know she loved her. To Hermione, it felt as if ever since she'd decided to invite Fleur she'd already cheated on Cho. Though fantasy Hermione had never thought of as so, the presence of the woman from those fantasies – and an ex, besides – seemed unfaithful by default. She didn't even need to sleep with Fleur to betray Cho. It felt she already had.

Hermione had mulled all this over in the shower that morning while Cho still slept. Then, guilt suffocating her as much as the steam, she dressed and left a note for Cho saying she'd like to have dinner just with her that night. She knew Cho would get message to her about where and when.

For no reason, Hermione thought about what she was going to wear that day. She wanted to look nice if she was going out with Cho that night. Cho always wore very straight clothes – neat jeans and stripy long-sleeved cotton tops were her favourite, or for work dark trousers and plain or pinstriped shirts. It was always familiar with Cho. Everything, her clothing, her hair cuts – which hadn't changed since Hogwarts – her mouth, her body, her whole style…

There was a thought attached to her familiarity that always struck Hermione, and that was that familiarity caused comfort, and people loved comfort and therefore familiarity, but familiarity was not _exciting_.

These thoughts always disturbed Hermione and so again she put them out of her head as she looked for something to wear.

Naturally, as the owner of her own designs, Hermione was intensely interested in fashion, which had always been a secret passion of hers as a student. As such, she was always dressed in the very best, and most uncomfortable, clothes.

It was winter time and so Hermione pulled out a long coat to wear. Now all she had to do was team her clothes to it.

When Hermione finally Apparated out of the house, cigarette in mouth, she was being strangled in high-waisted jeans and freezing in a low cut shirt. The denim vest that matched her jeans did nothing to help keep her décolletage warm.

Hermione, once at work, was too busy, as usual, to worry about her feelings and misgivings. She noted the time when she knew Cho would start work, but other than that kept herself busy, which really wasn't hard. A lot of Hermione's customers would come back several days a week trying to get more information on muggle clothing, and some of them had a very hard time understanding it.

So it wasn't unusual for Hermione, occupied with a customer, to forget about others in the shop, and to completely disregard the door. She didn't even notice the tall blonde woman who came in shortly after one o'clock.

Hermione was trying to teach the seventh year from the school about how to match the colours and patterns in muggle clothes. He had been in two days ago for the same reason when his muggle-born girlfriend told him he couldn't meet her parents because He dressed like an idiot. With Christmas break coming up, he realised he needed help soon.

Finally, Hermione convinced him that for the time being as long as he only wore striped or checked (or plain, naturally) tops with jeans he would probably be all right. He bought a few clothes and left.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and was on her way back to her seat behind the desk when a young girl from the school came running up to her. Hermione's eyes scanned the shop apprehensively. There were easily a dozen other kids in the store. Damn Hogsmeade passes.

The little girl was actually a tiny sixteen year old who had decided she was too old not to wear mini skirts. She was asking Hermione how short should she go and what would be her best colours. Hermione straight out asked if she was a virgin.

The girl looked shocked. Hermione looked back blandly and the girl eventually whispered, "Yes, but my boyfriend wants to."

This was usual practice for Hermione. If you didn't know why they wanted the clothes you couldn't help them get what they really wanted. And her straight forward approach and good advice had made her friends with many of the students.

In the end the girl opted for longer-length mini-skirts because she didn't want to look like she was after sex. She wasn't ready, she told Hermione and then they'd both agreed she'd probably be uncomfortable in some of the skirts.

Finally, Hermione made it to her chair. Her feet hurt in her shoes and she slipped them off inconspicuously. No one else seemed to need her help, so she leant back and enjoyed the rest for a moment, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with the first two fingers of each hand.

When she opened her eyes there was a tall blonde standing at the desk. It took a moment for Hermione's brain to register. "Fleur…" she whispered.

"'Ello, 'Ermione," Fleur said pleasantly. "I like your shop."

Fleur herself was resplendent in an orange mini-dress with a loose skirt, a coat thrown over one arm and a Gucci bag over the other. Fleur had never had any problem with muggle apparel and accessories herself. Hermione watched as Fleur slid her Fendi sunglasses over her forehead, revealing perfectly made up blue eyes. Hermione's heart was palpitating.

"Fleur…" she stammered again and Fleur gave her an indulgent smile.

"Thank you for inviting me. I went to see 'Arry and 'e told me where you worked. I am very impressed." Fleur was looking at her … with those eyes. So familiar, just like Cho, but so dangerous and so, so far away. Hermione's mind swam.

"It… it's good to s-see you." Hermione kicked herself. Pull yourself together girl, she scolded as she pushed her tired feet back into their shoes and stood up.

"Thank you," Fleur said. Her manners were precise, as always. "I have missed you too. Thank you for inviting me," she repeated.

There didn't seem much to say, after all, Hermione was shocked and still at work. This wasn't a surprise she was really expecting so soon. She couldn't leave the shop and ask Fleur to talk, which she knew would have been the best option. And, because she had already made plans for that evening with Cho she couldn't see Fleur over dinner.

Hermione swallowed as she thought, and Fleur stood, silent, watching her. Finally, Hermione came to the only feasible conclusion.

"I finish work today at five," she said. "I can meet you for a drink then at the Three Broomsticks if you'd like."

Fleur smiled. "I 'ave come at a bad time, I realise. I will see you then. Shall we 'ave dinner together?"

"Uh," Hermione faltered. Damn it, she couldn't remember the last time she felt so nervous. "No, I … already have plans."

"Oh," Fleur looked slightly surprised, but then smiled indulgently again. "Of course, you did not know I was arriving today. It is my mistake."

Hermione smiled, not altogether sincerely, and was about to sit, as Fleur left the shop, when another school kid came running over for assistance. Hermione sighed. So much for a break.

The rest of the day was mercifully uneventful as Hermione dressed young girls and groomed young boys. She was lucky the weekend, starting the next day, was not a Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione's hours echoed the school's hours – she had to be open on Hogsmeade weekends for the young children. But since the war had ended, it seemed fair that any student with a special pass and good OWLS could venture into Hogsmeade during their free lessons. The amount of witches, including the Weasleys and Hermione, made the "Hogsmeade High Street" – as dubbed by George Weasley – a safe place for properly prepared students.

Th walk to the Three Broomsticks just after five was no where near long enough for Hermione to wrap her thoughts up. By the time she trudged through the cold wind and into the pub she felt no less in control, and there was Fleur, sitting at a table for two near the window.

Hermione went to the bar and asked Madame Rosmerta for a Gilly Water, and then asked her to put aside a bottle of jaffa-chocolate and cherry wine, which was Cho's favourite, for dinner later on.

Once Hermione had paid for the drinks she met Fleur at the table, who had ordered a Billy Fizz and two enormous fudge brownies.

Fleur smiled charmingly, almost excitedly, at Hermione as the younger woman sat down. Though Hermione had always been older in her relationships at school, both Fleur and Cho were older than her. And when Hermione saw Fleur's mouth curving she was reminded of the first wonderful time, where Fleur had showed her that age truly did equal experience.

"'Ermione," Fleur said warmly. "It is so wonderful to see you again. I'm so glad you wrote to me. I never expected to 'ear from you again after our parting."

Hermione again smile her nervous half smile. "I had to see you."

Fleur sighed deeply, her head lolling backwards just slightly. "And I you," she murmured from between her apricot stained lips. Every time Hermione thought of shades of orange, it was a reminder of Fleur. "Oh, 'Ermione, 'ow I 'ave missed you…"

"Fleur…" Hermione muttered back. "I … I'm not looking for a … a relationship again. I just – just had to see you."

Fleur frowned, her lips slightly parted, her hair falling about her face. "I do not understand?" she spoke as in question.

"Fleur…" Hermione started again but paused. "I … I have a girlfriend."

"Oh!" Fleur looked outraged. "I see! Then why am I here?"

"Because-" Hermione started quickly, sure Fleur would just pick up and leave if she was offended, "Because I need you, Fleur!"

The blonde woman looked very affronted. She sat back in her chair, looking angry and confused. "What for?" she asked suspiciously.

Hermione hung her head, suddenly ashamed of herself and all the nonsense she was brining about. "I have never been able to stop thinking about you, not in all these years. And … and I've never felt the same way with you with any one else. I feel like part of me is missing – the only way to get it back is to be … see you."

Fleur's face melted into a warm, small smile. "Do you love me still?"

Hermione looked into Fleur's face irritably. "You know I'll always love you, Fleur."

Fleur sighed again and her arms drew across the table to grasp Hermione by the shoulders and pull her in for an awkward and impromptu hug. When Hermione disentangled herself, Fleur spoke.

"I see we shall 'ave to be together for a small while, to sort out whatever your issue is. We should go riding tomorrow. I will organise it and collect you. Where do you live?"

Hermione said she would meet Fleur at her shop. Fleur said nothing in response to that, just said again to leave it to her. Then she asked the question Hermione knew she would.

"So, 'oo is your girlfriend?"

The delivery was perfect. Not a trace of the obvious personal agenda; no sarcasm, smarm or mockery. Hermione said, "Cho Chang, she was a fifth year in Ravenclaw when you came to Hogwarts."

Fleur visibly shuddered. "'Ogwarts was always freezing."

Hermione just smiled tightly in return as she waited for Fleur's judgment, which she knew would come. There was a pause whilst she waited.

Finally, Fleur said softly, "I remember this girl. Scottish, was she not? I found 'er a little snobbish, but I must 'ave been wrong." Fleur flashed Hermione her most disarming smile.

Hermione wasn't fooled by Fleur's charm. She knew the older woman far too well for that, and knew that Fleur was deeply unsettled and unhappy about the news. And as Hermione knew her to be, she was sure Fleur would treat Cho nastily.

Though Hermione was meeting Cho for dinner, Fleur didn't seem in a rush to go anywhere. She insisted on trying to reminisce over the girl's past together, but when Hermione gave her no reaction she changed tact and began to tell Hermione of the things she had done since last they had met.

By the time Cho was due to arrive, Fleur was still smilingly telling Hermione about the chateau she had bought near where Hermione's holiday rental had been in the countryside. How the property was big enough for Fleur to run a pair of her own horses, and some chickens and anything she wanted. She had a small staff that her parents, being wealthy, employed for her. "The only problem with the place ees," Fleur was explaining when Hermione saw Cho enter, "that it ees too big a place for one person. Per'aps 'Arry or you would care to visit me sometime?"

Hermione never responded. She was staring over Fleur's shoulder at Cho, who was coming towards them now. She searched the Scots face for any sign of hurt or disapproval, but Cho looked so politely placid as she reached the table Hermione couldn't pick what she was thinking.

"Cho, you're here! Fleur, Cho, you know each other of course. Fleur arrived today, darling," Hermione said, feeling very protective of her lover suddenly for some reason.

"So I see," Cho replied, smiling at the two seated women. "Did you invite her to eat with us?" Cho said to Hermione.

"No, I thought that was just for us." Hermione said, trying to keep the point out of her voice.

"Well, we can't very well turn her away, can we?" Cho smiled widely. "Fleur, you must stay."

"I would love too, thank you," Fleur said and looked at Hermione.

Hermione went to get the menu.

The next morning dawned late for Hermione. She woke up to feel a vague discomfort in her body and a fuzzy headache lapping around her brain. She shouldn't have drunk so much the night before. She wondered what it was that woke her then realised someone was pounding on the door downstairs.

Hermione turned over to find Cho was already up. She thought, trying to figure out what had happened when they'd gotten home. It was obvious something was bothering Cho, and Hermione, drunk had been trying to talk to her. She remembered Cho hadn't followed her to bed even after Hermione had kissed her and said she loved her and fallen over the stairs. Hermione wondered if Cho even went to bed.

Grunting very roughly, Hermione dragged herself out of bed and threw on a robe over her half naked body. She realised she was still wearing her strangling, high-waisted jeans but no top or bra.

Slouching down the stairs Hermione found a note from Cho on the fridge – she had gone with Ginny to St Mungos for the baby's first magic equivalent of an ultrasound. Hermione felt more like she was being avoided. Cho and Ginny had never been _that_ close.

So, with no Cho around Hermione went to the door, pulling the robe tighter closed over her naked torso.

Standing on the narrow doorstep was Fleur.

"Fleur!" hermione said, surprised, pulling the robe still tighter. "How did you find my house?"

"Cho told me this morning. She was in the pub with 'Arry's wife this morning when I was 'aving breakfast before going to 'Ogsmeade to meet you. She told me to come 'ere instead."

Hermione realised it must be even earlier than she thought.

Fleur laughed suddenly. "Do you need 'elp dressing, 'Ermione?"

"No, that's fine," Hermione said, but she felt herself blushing as she realised Fleur would be able to tell she wasn't wearing a bra. Feeling it would be unfriendly to leave Fleur on the doorstep, Hermione invited her in and went to get dressed.

She met Fleur in the kitchen after putting on riding clothes – just like she saw Fleur was wearing and remembering Fleur had planned riding for the day.

Hermione knew the reason behind this planned trip. Perhaps their best ever time together, Hermione knew, was when she and Fleur had gone horse riding through an enchanted forest. You had to be careful what branches you touched on the trees for fear of bowtruckle bites, and a herd of unicorn were known to make their forest their home. They were protected from witch poachers by the local centaur population.

-

Hermione had never felt so alive as she did riding through the forest with Fleur on her right and slightly behind her. The big bay gelding she was riding plodded along, tossing his mane and snuffling slightly in the cooling air as it approached dusk. Fleur wanted them to reach the lake before night fall.

Hermione heard the tiny scampering of fairies in the tree leaves, as they rushed around, watching the travelers. Hermione saw the lake before Fleur did and dismounted, tying her beast to a thick, low branch with a spell so the bowtruckles wouldn't chew the rope.

She went to the lakeside, wondering, if like Hogwarts, there was a mermish population. Hermione doubted it. This lake was very small.

Naturally, above the lake, was a clearing in the trees. Hermione looked up and saw an arrow pierce the darkening sky. One of the centaurs shooting off a warning, she supposed.

Before Hermione knew what had happened, Fleur had pushed her into the lake. She felt her head snap backwards from the force, and because it was tipped upwards. Then she felt her arms fly out as she fell forwards and hit the water.

Fuming, Hermione finally managed to drag herself out of the freezing water. Fleur was laughing at her merrily and then flicked her wand. Hermione felt the clothes vanish from her body and saw them lying at her feet as a warm blanket settled around her shoulders.

Fleur was undressing quickly, silently and then forcing herself inside the blanket with Hermione. "This ees a magical spot," Fleur whispered into Hermione's wet hair and pushed their naked bodies together, slowly pushing Hermione to the ground beneath her. Then Hermione felt Fleur's palm warm against her cheek and felt the slickness of her tongue as Fleur trailed it along her skin. Across the cheek bone, up the soft indents of her neck, over the smooth hardness of her jaw until that mouth met her own.

Their kisses were deep, instead of the usual frantic where the thing was often rushed before Harry got home, or super quiet so Fleur's servants wouldn't gossip. Here, in this silent Eden they had their time and their silence, with only the horses watching them.

Soon the sounds of breathing and the smell of sweat emanated from the two women, cracking the void around them, but not souring it. The place was theirs alone, as Fleur slowly kissed Hermione back the way she had come, trailing her tongue over the soft, smooth flesh of Hermione's breast and belly. Fleur tugged Hermione's legs into arches and slid under them.

The bliss Hermione usually felt as she looked at the silvery blonde hair between her legs was amplified in this space. For a moment, Hermione almost thought she was drunk as the horses nickered softly into the deepening dusk. She felt Fleur working her very own special magic against her clitoris and felt drunker than she ever had on their very first night.

They had made love so many times before, but Hermione never got tired of the feeling, nor got used to it – the silent pounding of the blood in Fleur's tongue as it was forced into the most intimate of places, the heady smell of sex that wafted from both the naked women, the slight trembling that started to overcome her as she felt her whole body begin to throb in time with Fleur's mouth, the…

Then climax, which came on almost suddenly and always with such passion and such pressure that Hermione couldn't keep quiet if she wanted to. Tonight, as she came explosively as Fleur kept teasing her ever so slightly, her eyes flashed open and a low, guttural groan echoed in her throat and all she could see in the gloom, from where her head had fallen to the side, was the glinting of the horses' eyes as she watched the secret before them.

-

Hermione's eyes refocused to find Fleur looking at her slightly strangely. That was one of Hermione's most sacred memories and she was aware of the blush that crept steadily up her neck as Fleur studied her. Hermione was only glad she stopped herself before she thought of what else they had done on that horse riding trip.

Hermione knew that any ride they could take around London would be well seen by people, so there was no risk of a … "private moment". That was a cheering thought, but also, Hermione was surprised to discover, also a little disappointing. It didn't matter, because Hermione was sure nothing could ever be as truly magical as that ride. She wondered what Fleur could have planned.

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	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Here it finally is! I think it's a good chapter, but I am warning you that this will not be a long story and I will probably wrap it up next chapter or the one after.

Just to answer a couple of questions (some already answered in review replies) Ginny and Cho are not having an affair and the part at the end of last chapter where FLeur and Hermione made love was a memory from their previous affair.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

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The horse ride took all morning – from the moment they arrived at the woodland in the Scottish countryside where Fleur had organised it, until lunch time. This too had been organised by Fleur and though Hermione was confused, disgruntled and hungover, as she spent the morning hours alone with Fleur she came to appreciate Harry's suggestion, and her own decision, to invite Fleur here. But there was something more that nagged at Hermione.

Contrary to what she supposed she had hoped, her desire to be with Fleur had not diminished at the site of her past lover. The reasons she'd had for leaving Fleur seemed almost insignificant as she studied Fleur's beautiful, slender, toned legs encased in the pale fawn of her riding breeches. Hermione remembered those legs, wrapped tightly around her shoulders, so many nights, so long ago. It seemed like an age now. Inconceivable it was only about five years.

The small talk Fleur initiated through the length of their hack irritated Hermione, her aching head and foggy eyes blinking in the bright northern sunlight. She desperately wanted some water – and she belatedly realised breakfast would have been nice as well.

The ride went until twelve thirty, when, with a benevolent smile Fleur showed Hermione the river that trickled over the edge of a rocky outcropping. The horses, one white-grey, the other palomino, were lightly tethered by the women and left to their own devices, which suited them as they drank from the stream and chewed viciously on the grass.

Hermione loved horses and riding. Her mother had grown up in the country on a farm. Her family had owned four horses – one for each of the family members, two of which were also used to pull their carriage. They had grown pigs and sheep and cows, stray cats had made the barn their home and the dogs liked to try and chase them away.

Because of the strong country girl instincts in her mother, Hermione had grown up with pet rabbits to simulate other, larger animals, her mother had a toy poodle – a far cry from the Labrador she had owned as a teen – and had been given riding lessons weekly until she went away to Hogwarts.

Hermione had a gift with the horses, but her ability to ride very well had not transferred to the broomstick school had tried to teach her, nor had she expected it would. Hermione was never as confident about practical things as people thought – unless she had learned to do the thing and do it well.

Fleur had magicked a picnic to this spot – complete with plaid blanket and traditional picnic basket. Fleur busied herself getting everything ready and Hermione was slightly embarrassed to see all the items were her favourites – salmon steaks and salad with garlic sauce, cheese, ham and tomato sandwiches, without dressing, and custard tart and chocolate biscuits for pudding, along with copious (thank god!) amounts of water and a bottle of Hermione's favourite white by _The Glen_.

Hermione watched, feeling awkward, as Fleur began dishing out the foods, but suddenly the beautiful blonde stopped and sighed. Hermione raised an eyebrow, and it hurt her head to do so, and asked what was wrong.

"Eet's, nothing!" Fleur smiled again. "But … I cannot help remembering that once, by now, we would 'ave skipped the meal and would 'ave been making love by the water's edge."

Hermione was silenced by this direct statement. Fleur kept her gaze down as the speech sunk in, and then looked directly into Hermione's face. "Tell me why you 'ave brought me 'ere, 'Ermione. Why did you want to see me?"

Hermione had known, of course, that this question would arise, and again it would until she answered it. Fleur knew her, much as Hermione disliked admitting it, inside and out. There was no point lying to Fleur. Fleur would know.

So Hermione made herself comfortable on the ground across from Fleur, the plates of food between them. Hermione's stomach grumbled as it seemed to chew itself in hunger. She picked up the plate Fleur had put the salmon and salad on and began to eat peckishly as she explained.

"I … I think about you Fleur. I think about you all the time," Hermione gave a half laugh as she looked up at Fleur. But saying the words wasn't as hard as she had expected. After all, as well as Fleur knew her Hermione knew the Frenchwoman just as well. She knew Fleur's response would be delighted laughter, and, as it always was, also just a little nasty as well.

"I can't … I can't _get there_ without you, Fleur. Making love I mean. I love Cho, I love her all the way, but there is something different … I come, she makes me come over and over again, but I'm never _satisfied_. I always want more. And that's when I think of you. Fleur, I'm missing something without you. Despite everything we went through, I _need_ you, Fleur."

Hermione's speech was met, surprisingly, with a reflective silence. But Hermione could see that condescending laughter hidden just behind the smile Fleur couldn't keep off of her face. And then, suddenly, Fleur made a move sharply forward, as if she meant to leap over the plates and kiss her. Hermione jerked reflexively backwards.

"'Ermione, it pleases me to 'ear such words from you. I too am unable to completely fill up with the pleasures of flesh since you left me."

"Maybe it was the way we parted," Hermione said, this thought having occurred to her before. "Because we tore a piece of each other's hearts out and took it with us."

Slight anger flittered it's way onto Fleur's face. "You did not take a piece of mine," she said quietly, audibly forcing the anger down. "You took my 'ole 'eart when you left _me_."

Hermione looked at her calmly, with that silent, fiery fury that she was so well known for. "My reasons for leaving you still stand Fleur!" hermione ignored the hurt look on the older woman's face and tried not feel guilty as she picked up a goblet of water (damn that wine, it was so tempting! But not so much with a hangover, thought Hermione).

"What eef I said I 'ad gone to lengths to fix myself for you, darleeng?"

"Fleur, there is still the matter," Hermione tried to sound angry, astonished, but she couldn't. Her voice was soft as she said, continuing, "of Cho. I love her. She's my girlfriend. I don't want to hurt her."

Fleur was silent for a moment as she herself picked at the salad on her plate. "I understand that."

The rest of the lunch was uneventful, the conversation becoming too painful, and too involved for either of the women. The talk regressed to what they had done, seen, who they had met, over the half-decade since they had last met.

When the two women returned in the early afternoon to Hermione's house they found Cho sitting alone at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee. It smelled delicious to Hermione, and she was trying to think of a way to get Cho to sit and talk with her – and Fleur if need be – when Cho looked up and said, smiling, "I can't stay. While I was at Mungo's they asked me to come in for a few hours. Filligree is off sick."

"Oh, really?" Hermione said, actually quite put out by the information. Cho nodded before adding,

"But Ginny had invited us to dinner tonight with her and Harry. You too, Fleur."

Fleur's smile, Hermione noticed, appeared slightly strained. But to Hermione the plan sounded wonderful. It gave her an excuse to throw off Fleur for a few hours and do some serious thinking.

Fleur didn't seem to want to leave, so Hermione and she had a coffee together, silent, after Cho left, while Hermione thought of some pathetic excuse to get rid of her before dinner in three hours. Finally, Fleur left.

Hermione went up to her room and sat on the end of the bed. But she didn't feel comfortable, so she grabbed her diary and her cigarettes and walked down to her favourite park again, sat on her favourite bench and speculated over the past twenty-four hours. She couldn't believe Fleur had only been there for that long. It felt like weeks already.

She didn't open the book to reminisce this time, but lit a cigarette and leaned back on the bench as she slowly thought over what was happening here. So glad, and yet miserable was she that she had Cho to use as an excuse for Hermione knew she would have kissed Fleur that afternoon. And it was plainly obvious to Hermione that Fleur was doing everything in her power to make Hermione fall back in love with her. Even the reasons for leaving Fleur in the first place seemed shadowed in the light of Fleur's presence after so long.

Hermione believed in being faithful and she truly did love Cho. But having Fleur so near again … Hermione knew what was missing. It was the excitement, the colour of Fleur that was gone from her life. Plain jane Cho was familiar – and that was not exciting Hermione thought again. But Fleur was always reinventing herself with clothing, makeup, sexual techniques and ways of speaking. She was almost a chameleon.

At first Hermione wondered if it was the fire of the Veela that burned hot in Fleur and set fire to Hermione's own veins in the throes of sex. But now, now that she had seen Fleur again, she knew it was the simple truth: she still loved Fleur madly, physically and intellectually. And she always would.

Fleur knew how to make Hermione's body do things no one else ever had.

Having said that, Hermione thought, she got so much more, emotionally, out of sleeping with Cho than she had with Fleur. Her love for Cho was deeper, but her love for Fleur even now was no less real.

Finally, Hermione did turn to her book to see if it sparked any old feelings that may have been brought into the sunlight, but she had no more understanding then of anything. And before she knew it she had smoked five cigarettes and it was five o'clock. She rushed home to find something to wear.

Cho was there when she arrived several minutes later back at their house. Hermione was overwhelmed with feelings of guilt, and love for her partner. Cho was buttoning up a plain shirt to wear to dinner. It was burgundy with magenta pinstripes. She was wearing it over a pair of loose black jeans. Despite the blandness of Cho's appearance, Hermione was aroused by simply being with her after such a confusing day and rushed to hug her when she entered the bedroom where Cho was dressing.

The older girl's hair was damp; she'd just been in the shower. Hermione kissed her hungrily on the mouth and Cho allowed herself to be kissed. Though she hadn't intended it , or even thought about, the women ended up making love right then, before going out to dinner. Hermione worked her mouth on Cho's hot mound, knowing the effect it had on her and then Cho used Hermione's favourite curved toy to bring her to a screaming climax.

Afterwards Cho seemed almost ashamed of herself, but Hermione's attentive hugs and kisses and making coffee for the two of them warmed her a little and she gave Hermione a warm hug before the younger lady went to her wardrobe to dress. She chose a blue dress and teamed it with nude stockings and black shoe-boots, opting to tie some of her hair back loosely, half way up her crown.

The girls arrived at the Leaky Cauldron last of all, but it appeared that Fleur had gone with Harry alone and Ginny had done a little baby shopping after Cho had been called into work.

Ginny looked warm and somewhat cuddly as she stood to hug Hermione, but not Cho. The two girls, after all, had never been overly close until recently and it was obvious they weren't yet close enough for hugs – especially considering they had only seen each other that morning.

Harry sat beside Fleur, Ginny on his other side as she sat back down. Hermione took, gladly, the seat beside Ginny and that left Cho to sit beside Fleur. Cho's face, as Hermione checked it for unhappiness, was studiously blank.

They all ordered their meals and Hermione happily drank her wine and chatted away to Harry about work, both his and hers. The remaining three girls talked animatedly about Ginny's pregnancy, Fleur monopolizing the talks. Hermione tried to zone it out considering she wasn't quite ready to face Fleur after her brief encounter with Cho that afternoon. But she felt Fleur's eyes on her face and knew she still wore a slight smile and knew her cheeks were still flushed, as they always were. Fleur knew the signs of orgasm in Hermione – so many times had she not put them there herself?

Hermione felt now, like Cho had before, somewhat ashamed. At least embarrassed. Harry seemed to notice her discomfort as he asked her, with sympathetic eyes, if she was alright. As Hermione was to answer she heard something that shocked her, coming from Cho's mouth.

"I want a baby soon, too. If I wait too much longer before I know it I'll be thirty and then it will be getting too late…"

Harry grabbed and held Hermione's eyes with his own, and she saw her own surprise mirrored there. True, Hermione knew Cho was maternal and at twenty-six it was likely that she would be thinking about it. Hermione knew she was. But they'd never spoken about it, and here Cho was speaking to Ginny and Fleur about it! Those two of all people! Fleur was her rival and Ginny merely a child-gossip. Hermione was gobsmacked.

But before Hermione had the chance to react, Fleur but in, "But I am even older than you. I 'ave much more maturity and experience, therefore. I know that you two are crazy to be 'aving children. They are merely nuisance."

Hermione felt her face draw tight as she continued to stare at Harry. It was obvious what each was thinking. Neither had ever learned the skill of closing off their thoughts and emotions, both were just far too passionate. But it was obvious they were both stunned at Cho's sudden announcement and astounded at Fleur's (sadly characteristic, but nonetheless tactless and surprising) rudeness.

As the night wore on Hermione grew more and more agitated to be near the three other women and found herself wishing that it was just her and Harry to tea. She eventually ended up swapping seats with Ginny and the two of them spoke in hushed undertones about the happenings of the past two days since Fleur's arrival. She had stayed, that last night, right in the Leaky Cauldron but harry had chivalrously offered her his spare room for the remainder of her stay, which he had a feeling wouldn't be too long.

He said, "Either she's going to try and get you back with her and whisk you away to France again or she'll move in with you here. And if you choose not to be with her she'll disappear before either of us know what has happened."

Hermione merely nodded.

She and Harry had moments of silence where they sipped simultaneously from large wine goblets and listened to the talk of the other three women. And there was definitely a cold, cruel way in which Fleur treated Cho. She tried to cut down her opinions, cut her off when speaking to share her own anecdote or thought. Ginny, surprisingly, seemed sincerely interested in Fleur's opinions, obviously admiring the woman's experience, for Fleur must have been about five years older than Ginny Hermione thought.

Cho took Fleur's abuse with good humour, as was her way. She simply smiled and listened and didn't bother to reply to Fleur's veiled insults. Hermione knew her lover well, though. Cho was no simpleton. She was a Ravenclaw. She knew Fleur's game. As did Hermione and Harry.

The night ended late and Fleur went home with Harry and Ginny, the women talking animatedly together. Fleur smiled and waved good-bye to the others, telling Hermione she would come by the house in the mid-morning and they should find something marvelous to do together. Cho had to work again the next day.

When they got home Hermione waited for the explosion of anger she felt sure was going to come from Cho. But none came. Finally, though, Cho did speak, coldly. But she was not nasty. She seemed sad. She said, "I know it was you who invited Fleur, and not Harry as much."

There was a pause but Hermione couldn't think of anything to say. This seemed more than anything to upset Cho acutely. "I know what's going on here Hermione." Her name, Hermione noted, was spoken with pain. But Cho hadn't finished her tiny speech. "I don't know what to think, or what to feel. I'm sleeping in the spare room tonight."

"Cho-" Finally Hermione's tongue operated, but Cho cut her off with a shale of the head, saying she didn't want excuses.

"Speak to me when you know what you want," Cho said, her voice tightly controlled as was her way when hurting. "But don't wait too long." And Cho left the room, walking slowly up the stairs. Presently Hermione heard her taking linen from the tiny hallway cupboard, and shortly after the second bedroom door closed.

That night Hermione dreamed she was lost in a black fog. She could hear too voices calling to her, one Fleur's and one Cho's. but all she could see was the brightness of Fleur's hair. Cho's black hair was lost somewhere in the gloom. Naturally, she thought, she moved towards the bright beacon of hair that she could see…

By the time Hermione awoke the following morning the dream was forgotten and Cho was gone. A little note was on the kitchen table as Hermione made herself some strong coffee and swallowed two panadol to make up for two days of drinking. It read simply that she, Cho, would be working until two and then had some shopping to do. She would bring home Chinese for dinner at about six.

Usually on a Sunday Hermione liked to spend the morning sleeping off Saturday's hangover that until Ginny had graduated was always brought on by the two girls going out to the nightclubs, Cho coming along if she wasn't working and Harry if he could be persuaded. But he often took Saturdays, also until recently, to catch up with Neville and Seamus, Ron if he could get in touch with him, Ernie and several other old friends from school. If the Weasley twins joined them the night always turned out more extravagant than expected. Being everyone worked now, the boys and indeed the girls found they had little other time than Saturday nights.

But, Sunday afternoons usually saw Hermione down at her shop, checking merchandise and deciding on the décor for that month, et cetera. Today she would have no such option, since Fleur had told and not asked that she join her for some surprise outing.

It was ten when Hermione awoke. She had some stale oats mixed into porridge for breakfast and slid on a pair of old trusty jeans and a plain black top with a long, heavy coat. Only Hermione knew though how to make frumpy old clothes work together and look stylish. She twisted her voluptuous hair into a loose, fuzzy bun and waited – a grand total of fifteen minutes for Fleur to arrive.

Hermione was just glad to be dressed this time.

Today Fleur had planned a little nature hike through the Irish countryside. Fleur didn't like walking much, and Hermione was quite astounded. But when she realised where they were going she understood. She had once told Fleur of a castle in Northern Ireland that she had found in a book.

The castle, Gosford Castle, was a very young castle that had been easily let fall into disrepair. So the story went, as Hermione read it, it was once owned by a descendent of the very ancient Winterford family, a very magical family from old times. Hermione had always wanted to see this place, supposedly falling to pieces because of the lack of magic now there.

The castle had extensive grounds, over eight hundred acres if Hermione remembered rightly - and of course she always did – and it was here that Fleur decided to take her walking.

They strolled down paths, well worn for the castle's forest was open to the public to peruse. But, being magical as they both were, they were able to see the signs of centaurs having lived there long before the castle was built. There were signs of bowtruckles having made nests in the trees, and fairy dust glittered in the dust their feet stirred up. Obviously, the place had been chosen for the magic already there.

As before, they found a stream to sit by as they stopped for lunch. Obviously upset with the impression, or lack thereof, that her lunch from the day before had made (though Hermione had been very impressed) Fleur had merely bought cucumber and ham sandwiches this time, with some potato salad and chocolate biscuits. There was water again and it reminded Hermione belatedly of how much water Fleur always drank, and how much water had seemed to mean to her always.

Naturally, Hermione was a little nervous speaking of it but she couldn't not bring up the way Fleur had treated Cho the night before. Fleur had sneered slightly and said, "What can you expect, 'Ermione? Do you want me to be pleased that you are breaking my 'eart every second I see 'er?"

"Fleur…" Hermione could say nothing else, as a simple misery took a hold of her, saddening her beyond anything expected. "I love her, Fleur." It sounded pathetic to her own ears.

Fleur moved forwards sharply, snatching Hermione's hands so that she dropped the glass of water she had. It spilled in her lap. Fleur ignored it. "I love you, 'Ermione," she said, her eyes flashing intensely. And this time she did kiss her.

Something happened in that moment. The first touch of Fleur's lips on hers and Hermione felt the old sparks come back, the need, the _desire_, both aroused.

At first she was startled and pulled back a little. But Fleur's long-nailed fingers wound their way into her hair, pinching strands as they caught where she had tied them back. And when the primal needs were awakened, just as Hermione had _wanted_ them to be, she found herself kissing back, with passion to match Fleur's own.

Fleur stopped, moved around the food that was between the two and then came to Hermione, pushing her down, knocking aside the glass and lay herself close to Hermione, returning to kissing her with gusto.

Hermione gasped into Fleur's mouth as the Veela's fingers pressed gently a little pattern on Hermione's neck. She could feel her nether regions throbbing already, the thrill of Fleur making her hot and wet. She ached for Fleur to touch her there without even being aware of it. But there was a thought that came fiercely into her head and pulled her back, pushing Fleur away with one hand.

"I can't do this to Cho."

"'Ermione," Fleur's voice was throaty and hoarse. "Don't think of betrayal and guilt. Leesten to your body. It will tell you what it needs. Leesten to your 'eart. What do you want?"

Hermione's eyes searched Fleur's and then she was kissing Fleur of her own accord, and pulling that blond head to her, moving it away from her mouth and directing those lips to her neck. She stroked Fleur's hair, the bright beacon that had called to her in her forgotten dream, and gasped little breathy gasps, moaning every so often as Fleur kissed her neck. Hermione loved her neck being kissed.

But Fleur wasn't going to stop there. Hermione realised dimly what this meant, as Fleur pushed back her jacket and lifted her shirt up and undoing her bra expertly with one hand. Momentarily her doubts came back but as Fleur took one nipple into her mouth and lightly bit it, running her tongue around it Hermione knew without a doubt this was what she wanted.

I was going to make it more graphic, but the story felt like it wanted to end here. If people want more graphic sex scenes just let me know. If you want less graphic, in fact, let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This is the last chapter, featuring oh-so mature Ron! Thanks to all the patient readers who have waited each month for the update.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

* * *

If Hermione had expected things to be different after being with Fleur, she was not wrong. Fleur had insisted on Hermione telling Cho that it was over and she was going to come home with her to make sure she did. But Hermione told Fleur she wasn't ready to make such a decision after one afternoon of sex by a river.

Well, of course the conversation didn't go like that, but Fleur merely said she would meet Hermione for dinner the following night, Monday. It was a meeting Hermione looked towards with mixed feelings.

Cho was in the kitchen when Hermione got in, reading a medical journal and taking notes in her little yellow book. As an ex-Ravenclaw Cho always tried to learn anything new that came a long and was often trying to come up with her own ways of doing things. Hermione was always proud of her accomplishments, but secretly irritated at her relentless studying.

There were three bags sitting on the table near Cho, which were letting off a delicious odour. Hermione smiled at Cho, but the older woman didn't look up at her.

"I brought that home for us. If Fleur's with you there's not enough."

"Fleur's not here," Hermione said quietly, feeling hurt. Then she felt terribly guilty for feeling hurt after having had sex with Fleur that afternoon. She tried smiling again, but this time it hurt and Cho still didn't look at her anyway.

"Did you have a good day?" Cho asked, but the question sounded strained to Hermione. Cho turned a page in her journal. "Where did you go today?"

Hermione explained, not in detail, about Ireland. Cho nodded, still keeping her gaze steadfastly at the table. "What did you do?"

_Cheated_. Hermione almost gasped at herself as the word came unbidden into her mind. She felt eaten up with guilt suddenly, as the enormity of the day collapsed onto her all at once. She muttered about the hike and things, but didn't mention lunch. She hoped Cho didn't ask her what they'd eaten.

She didn't. "Are you hungry?" was Cho's next question. She was. Hermione was famished. She sat down across the table from Cho and opened the packages. Finally, once the food was laid out, Cho closed her books, marking her place in the journal, and started to help herself to the food.

"Cho…" Hermione couldn't stand the tension. Cho cut her off with another detached question.

"Did you sleep with her?"

Hermione felt flabbergasted. That was not the sort of question her familiar Cho asked! Cho never asked personal question like that, especially to do with sex. But Hermione, shocked as she was, found she couldn't lie. She nodded silently, and then whispered,

"Yes…"

Cho didn't say anything more after that, but ate her food, after opening her journal again. Hermione ate as well, but found she wasn't enjoying the food like she usually did. Chinese was her favourite.

There was nothing worse than the tension between them. Hermione felt like a hideous monster. Thoughts running through her head were either selfish or irrelevant. She decided she had to speak to Harry. Harry would know what to do.

Hermione muttered her intention after eating, and asked Cho if there was anything she needed first. Cho said no, there wasn't, without looking at Hermione, and so Hermione left and went to Harry's.

Mindful that Fleur was staying there, Hermione went to the Leaky Cauldron and Floo-ed her head into Harry's kitchen fire first. Luckily, it _was_ Harry who saw her, as he was making coffee for Ginny, and agreed to meet her and the Leaky Cauldron in ten minutes.

Hermione ordered Firewhisky while she waited for Harry, and when he arrived just under fifteen minutes later she was already on her third goblet.

Harry sat down opposite Hermione and ordered a butterbeer. Hermione could see he was about to say something, probably along the lines of 'what's up' when she blurted out, "I slept with Fleur!"

"Oh." Harry said and frowned lightly.

"What do you mean, oh," Hermione muttered. "I've completely stuffed up. Cho will never forgive me!"

Harry's face studied her mildly, but Hermione felt as if she were on display. She couldn't believe the mess she'd managed to get herself into. Finally, Harry spoke.

He said, "You brought Fleur here to make a choice – live with her and without Cho, or live with Cho and try to forget Fleur. Only you know how you feel about what's happened, but you better make that choice pretty quick or Cho's going to leave and you won't have the choice."

Hermione left for work the next day without seeing Cho. Cho had an afternoon shift on her ward and was probably sleeping in. she was still in the spare room. Hermione knew it was her fault and it was selfish to feel lonely, but she did anyway.

She was expecting Fleur to come and see her at some point, but the first people she saw were Hogsmeade locals. It wasn't until lunch time that Fleur showed up and Hermione smiled at her a little nervously. But she was far too busy to talk and so simply asked Fleur if she could meet her afterwards. Fleur said yes, she would spend the day browsing the shops in Hogsmeade and meet Hermione at five to have a drink.

Hermione wasn't sure what she feeling, but she was totally shocked when her customers thinned out and Ron walked in.

It was about two o'clock and Hermione hadn't seen Ron in at least a month. Not even down the park, by the lake. Then a hideous stone settled in her gut as she realised Cho must have told Ginny she (Hermione) had slept with Fleur. Ginny would have told Ron. She could always find Ron if she needed him.

"Hello, Hermione," Ron said. He looked awful. His hair was long and stringy, and his face was paler than she'd ever seen it, his freckles fading out and looking slightly blotchy.

"Ron!" Hermione was happy to see him, and he didn't look angry with her. Then again, Ron had always liked Fleur and never particularly warmed to Cho, thinking she was stand-offish and snobby. Hermione knew in her heart of hearts that he had a slight point. Cho had never liked Ron either.

"I wanted to talk to you. Ginny told me you slept with Fleur, but you're still with Cho."

"Well, that remains to be seen."

"How d'you mean?" Ron asked, and sat down in Hermione's chair behind the counter. Hermione decided to close the shop, at least for now if not for the rest of the day, and took Ron into the back of the shop where the tiny lounge was. She made them both coffee and sat down to explain the whole situation to him.

"So, Cho will probably leave me. I mean, she's pretty independent," Hermione said at the end of the tale. Ron nodded. He had put the coffee aside barely touched and the biscuit tin on the table had been left alone as well. It was no wonder Ron looked so peaky, if he wasn't eating much.

"Well it depends, you know, Hermione. It depends on how much you love each other, and whether or not you want to be with her or Fleur. I wouldn't blame you for going to Fleur, I mean, she's a dear," Ron said. His voice was the only animated thing about him. Even his hair hung limply to his shoulders and his eyes were hooded in a way they'd never been in school.

"Yes, but I love Cho," Hermione said. "I don't want to hurt her."

"But you already have," said Ron, only half gentle. "Let me tell you a story, Mi." Ron was the only one who used that nickname. "I loved Luna. I loved her more than I thought it was possible for me to love her. And after we'd been together for a year she slept with Terry Boot. They met up four times over a fortnight and then she told me about a week afterwards. I was heartbroken."

Hermione was flabbergasted. This was not the sort of thing she expected from Luna! Luna had always been a bit of an airhead, a little ditzy and not the sort of woman who would go looking for something un-allowed.

"Terry had been Luna's crush at school, you know. She always had a soft spot for him. She lost her virginity to him in her sixth year, so I can understand why. She explained to me what had happened."

"What was it?" Hermione asked, breathily, knowing that Ron was telling her something very important underneath his just as important story.

"She couldn't forget him. She just couldn't. She'd been madly in love with him at the time and even though she'd been the one to break it off – to be with me no less – there was just something in her that needed him. I think once she'd got it out of her system it was okay. it took me awhile to get over it though, you know, I was devastated. But she had her reasons and I had her promise and I knew she loved me so I forgave her. Besides, I loved her and I wanted to make it work."

Hermione nodded slowly, knowing she was missing the point Ron was trying to get across to her. Yes, if she loved Cho she would try to fix things and if Cho loved her they would be able together. But what about Fleur? That was what she didn't understand.

And when had Ron became so involved and knowledgeable about relationships? It wasn't like the oblivious boy she had known back at Hogwarts. But Ron's experiences were etched into his entire body. He had not gained wisdom without suffering horribly for it. Lavender gave him strength to go on, and Hermione assumed Ron gave Lavender something in return. And now he was helping her, or she too might suffer an extreme loss and end up just that – lost.

Ron spoke again, saying, "Back then, Luna said to me she believed that you either go to the person you love more and if you can't choose, give them both up. Why hurt people. I think I agree with her."

It was then and then alone that Hermione understood what Ron was saying to her. She looked him full in the face and smiled and then leaned over and hugged him, pulling his emaciated frame to her bosom and squeezing him in a hug she never remembered having given him before – despite how he had deserved it, as one of her dearest friends.

"Come and have dinner tonight, Ron. We'll get everyone together – your sister and Harry, and Cho if she'll come and even Fleur I suppose, if you like."

Ron looked embarrassed. "Nah, I don't think so Hermione. I don't really feel up to a crowd, you know, I'm just…"

"Rambling," Hermione said, finishing for him. But she smiled at him to show she was trying to be kind, and not judging him.

"I don't think so, Hermione," was all Ron said in response. He was talking about dinner. And though Hermione tried again to persuade him, Ron would not budge. But Hermione left the store closed and they sat, just the two of them, alone, discussing things from the past, and the present. Hermione couldn't remember the last time Ron and her had talked properly. And she was glad that he felt strongly enough (and well he should, having been in the same position) to come and talk to her right at the time when she her most confused. Yes, she needed some more time to think things over, properly soul search.

She thought to herself, I should have been able to do this before. I shouldn't have had to bring Fleur here and sleep with her to know what I want. But that was exactly what it took.

After Ron left Hermione made herself some more coffee and lit a cigarette. She sat back and thought about all the events, from the first time Harry brought Fleur home to dinner from the boutique in France, until this very moment. Surprisingly, the milestone events, like the times Fleur was romantic and when they slept together, where very easy to remember. The year she spent in France with Fleur before the breakup also came easily into her mind. And then the breakup occupied her mind.

How did she know she'd be able to cope with Fleur this time? Did she know if Fleur had changed? If anything, it seemed Fleur _hadn't_ changed, and Hermione supposed people never really did. She remembered how much better she'd felt when she'd finished with Fleur, like she got her life back. There had been so much she had wanted to do, but Fleur had consumed her and her life had faded to nothing in Fleur's paradise.

But then, she had missed Fleur, so very much. If she stayed with Cho would she be able to let Fleur go? She didn't know, on either accounts. All she knew was that before Fleur came she had pined for her, for the sex.

And all she knew was that she loved Cho and she hadn't enjoyed the sex with Fleur long term because of an all consuming guilt.

If she left Cho would she feel guilty? Probably not, because at least then it wasn't cheating. If she stayed with Cho, would she regret it? She didn't know. Maybe. Possibly. Hermione thought it was highly probable.

She drank her coffee and smoked her cigarette and then ate a biscuit from the tin. Whatever she decided she had to do it soon. Because she had to meet Fleur like she'd promised.

Hermione didn't want to go to the Three Broomsticks now. She felt tired and annoyed with all this mess she'd created. But she didn't have a choice; she had to go. She walked slowly down the street towards the pub, seeing a few late school kids wandering around. Some of them came running to her to ask why the shop had been closed that afternoon. Hermione apologised and said it was a private matter, but the shop would be open all day tomorrow.

The students looked upset. Some didn't have study breaks the next day and needed advice and new clothes. Hermione was tempted to open the shop again now for them, but they had a curfew to be back in the grounds and she had to see Fleur.

Fleur was sitting at a table with a bottle of champagne. There was a beatific smile perched atop her orange lipsticked lips. She wasn't wearing as much make up as she usually did and her knee length dress, in red, made her seem almost a goddess, the way it clung to her curves. Hermione felt herself blushing. The sight of Fleur dressed up like a harlot for her was embarrassing. What would people think when she sat down across from her? When Fleur grasped her hand?

Not that it mattered of course. Hermione was proud to be bi-sexual. But Fleur seemed to want to flaunt that. Hermione wasn't the relationship flaunting type. Memories of their breakup came back to her.

Fleur smiled widely when Hermione sat down. She had poured the champagne as Hermione had made her way to the table. "I feel like celebrateeng," Fleur said, her painted smile stretching. If it was anyone but Fleur it would have looked grotesque, so Hermione thought. She smiled back, even though she didn't really feel like a drink.

"Fleur, I want to talk to you about something," Hermione said. Fleur wasn't listening. She was drinking the champagne, toasting their relationship.

"We will 'ave plenty of time to talk once we get back to France. I am not letting you get away from me again. You don't need to worry, 'Ermione, I will take care of everything. You can make your clothes and sell them over there. I'll give you your own studio. Cream coloured walls, I theenk. Oh, I can't wait to introduce you to all my friends. They will be so jealous!"

"Fleur!" Hermione said, astonished. We have sex and Fleur thinks she can plan my whole fucking life, Hermione thought. "Fleur I don't need you doing this."

"Oh, but darleeng, I enjoy it. Oh, we'll go to parties – maybe I will 'old one just for you. It'll be good for you to get out of the city. It 'as ruined your skin, you know 'Ermione."

"Fleur, I am not moving to France," Hermione said, somewhat affronted.

"But of course you are. How else are we to be together? Oh, tell me _you_ 'aven't noticed the skin damage? 'Ermione, you're getting spots. Besides, I theenk you must be lazy living in the city. I am."

"Fleur, I'm fine. I like it here. I'm happy where I am."

Fleur interrupted again, and Hermione swallowed her glass of champagne in one to mask her frustration. Damn it, Fleur hadn't changed a bit. Hermione knew exactly how her life would be if she went back with Fleur.

"Well, I don't want you to live 'ere, and I certainly won't." Fleur was going to say something more, but Hermione cut in.

"I'm not going to live with you Fleur!" Fleur looked shocked as Hermione continued, saying, "Goddammit, Fleur, this is just like last time. I want to live my own life! I'm not going with you!"

Fleur looked outraged, and rather hurt. "What are you saying?" she hissed.

"I'm staying with Cho," Hermione said so softly it was almost a whisper.

Fleur flew into a rage. Hermione was upset at the scene created by a grown woman tearing at her hair and ripping the sleeve on her dress. Fleur's anger wasn't a problem thought. Hermione had seen that before. "You bring me 'ere to 'ave sex with you and then you say you are going to not 'ave me? I could give you anytheenk you want – you are a liar – you 'ave used me!"

Fleur was standing now, and Hermione replied, turning her head to face her. "I never lied to you! I told you when you got here I didn't know what I wanted."

Fleur slumped back into her seat. "You said you needed me…"

Hermione felt like crying. "I did. But I don't anymore."

Fleur nodded, hopeless. Hermione knew it was immensely painful, but Fleur had never been able to stay angry with her.

"I still love you, 'Ermione," Fleur said, and _she_ was crying, thick silvery tears tumbling down her face. She wept and then stood and said her goodbyes. "I will go back to France now… eet … eet was good to see you again." Fleur tried to force a smile but it fell off her face.

"I love you too, Fleur," Hermione said so softly it might have been a whisper. Fleur gave her one sweet, chaste kiss before leaving the pub. It was just like the one they'd shared when they broke up in France, years ago.

It was a long walk home. Hermione Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, and from there strolled the London streets towards her home. She took the tube when she had to, but for the remainder of the time meandered along Walks and Boulevards and finally put her key into the lock and let herself into her house.

Cho was in the kitchen, reading the paper and drinking coffee.

"Fleur's gone," Hermione said, wondering what that would mean to Cho.

The Scot looked at her. "Are you ready to talk to me?" she asked, her voice impartial but gentle. Hermione nodded. They sat together at the table.

Hermione explained her topsy-turvy day and how speaking to Ron had helped her sort out the mess. She said, "I needed Fleur for so long. She was a big part of my life. But since she's been here, it's been a mess. And yes, I had sex with her. I feel guilty as all fuck. But the thing is, I know now that I _don't _want Fleur. Cho, I want you. I love you."

Cho sighed. Hermione's heart dropped. But Ron had been so sure!

"This has made me realise something, Hermione. I love you too, of course I do. But I want to have children one day soon, especially now I see Ginny, so much younger, and so happy! But I'm not willing to stake my future on someone who's not prepared to go the whole ten yards. How do I know that you'll support me?"

"I love you," Hermione said emphatically, reaching out and grasping Cho's hands. "I'm not ready for children yet – it's something we should talk about though, 'cause it matters to you. There is so much I want to do with you, Cho. We can do this. I want to."

Cho's face finally softened. "I believe you," she said. "I want to give it a go. But I will need time. This has hurt me a lot, this Fleur thing."

"I understand," Hermione said, saddened slightly.

For the first time in a long time her mind felt calm. She finally felt as if the missing part of her mind had woken up.

It was a week later before Cho and Hermione made love again. It was after dinner with Ginny and Harry, and explaining the whole Fleur event with good humour, brushing over the sex part. Everyone had been amazed to hear that Ron had gone to see Hermione, and they wanted to know how he looked. Hermione said soberly, not well.

She was giving up the cigarettes. Cho was proud of her. They made love that night, half sleepy and a little drunk. Afterwards the snuggled together, Hermione wrapping her arm around Cho's waist. It wasn't long before she fell into a blissful, uninterrupted sleep. She felt marvelous.

--

I know that ending must have upset a lot of people, and I'm so sorry! Please review though, anyway. I am thinking of writing a prequel, which would be when Hermione was in France with Fleur and Harry, so that would make up for this ending!!


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